


all my moves are slow

by Sohvana



Series: broken into better shape [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Background Relationships, Companion Piece, Drunken Flirting, Feels, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, cast some light 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 19:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohvana/pseuds/Sohvana
Summary: Late one night, Bodhi heads for his bed. He doesn't make it all the way there.





	all my moves are slow

Bodhi stumbles through the doorway, leaving only Jyn and Cassian behind in the common room.

Those two have been dancing around each other for weeks, as if gravity pulls them steadily closer together. Everyone sees it. Not that Bodhi has heard anyone comment aloud yet, but many times he’s shared small, knowing glances with other members of Rogue Squadron. They deserve a little happiness, a respite from the missions and the danger that doesn’t ever end.

He’s still warm all over - full up with drink, the spicy noodle dish Cassian concocted, and affection for his friends. His worn, well-loved sabacc deck weighs heavy in the thigh pocket of his pants, the corners pressing into his skin in time with his uneven steps. Tonight he’d played long and well, but Luke was so very lucky, and hid a snake’s cunning behind that open, easy grin. A flush creeps over Bodhi’s cheeks again, thinking back to how Luke smiled across the table at him. Later in the night, he’d swapped places with Jyn to put them elbow to elbow, and the nearness of him had ached.

Bodhi suddenly realizes he’s taken the long way back toward his quarters. This path passes Luke’s door, to the quarters he shares with Wedge. Bodhi’s steps slow a bit before he gets there. There’s something exhilarating about passing Luke’s room at this hour of the night, a burning deep in his belly, a fluttering higher up in his throat. Luke’s probably asleep by now anyway. He wonders if he’ll hear him snoring through the durasteel when he turns the corner. Reaching out toward the wall, he skims his fingers over the surface, toying with the idea of pressing a palm to Luke’s door, touching his own skin to a place Luke’s touched over and over.

He rounds the corner, surprised to see a beam of light shining across the floor. Luke’s door is partially open, and Bodhi can see someone bustling about inside. He stands transfixed, going completely still.

Then Luke - Bodhi sees the mop of sandy hair that gives him away - stops, standing with his back turned. He pulls his overshirt up over his head, tosses it across the room out of sight. A moment later, Luke is moving his way, and Bodhi takes a half step forward down the passageway, averting his eyes, hopelessly trying to look casual.

But instead of closing the door, Luke opens it wider and calls his name. “Bodhi. Hey.”

“Hi,” he answers, daring to look up, before Luke’s blue eyes overwhelm him and he has to duck his head again.

The silence holds, as Luke settles his shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his bare arms and surveying him in the half light.

Bodhi feels the weight of his gaze, scrambles for something natural to say. At last he goes for, “Good game tonight.”

Luke laughs, the sound clear and bright. “Thanks. You didn’t make it easy!”

He smiles in reply. The pause holds for a long moment.

“Hey, are you sleepy?”

Bodhi stares, uncomprehendingly. He’s thoroughly tipsy, but the honest answer is still, “Not really.”

“Then come on in. You can tell me how you managed an Idiot’s Array in the final round.” He pushes the door farther, holding it open for him.

Bodhi laughs then, walking past in a few light steps, spins on his heels to tease him. “You know I’ll never share my secrets!”

Luke closes the door, smiles back at him.

Bodhi casts around the small room, full to the gills with the two bunks, a single chest of drawers, and a trunk at the foot of one bed.

Luke follows his eyes. “Wedge’ll be out most of the week. We won’t be keeping anybody awake.”

He nods, suddenly very aware of the space he’s taking up, pulls his arms close in to his body.

Luke takes the three steps across the room, pauses directly in front of him. For a dizzying moment he’s so close, with light shining through his hair from the fixture behind.

Bodhi’s dazzled, too overwhelmed to hide the wonder in his eyes as he searches Luke’s face, leans just the smallest fraction toward him.

He looks right back, unflinching. “Let me show you something,” he says gently.

Bodhi can’t breathe, his stomach in knots.

He reaches around Bodhi, pulls open the top drawer of the dresser behind him.

He steps to the side out of the way, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” He fetches a little drawstring bundle, turns to sit down on his bed. “I won this set from Han a while back.” He lets the cards and dice slide out of the bag into his open palm.

Bodhi’s forehead wrinkles, and he sits down to look. “Dice?”

“Mhm. For the Corellian version.”

Bodhi focuses on the cards, a welcome distraction from his own nerves. He can make out many of the familiar figures, but the style of artwork is strange. Then he realizes Luke is watching him closely.

“I should teach you sometime.”

“I’d like that,” he replies, breathlessly.

Luke slides the game back into its bag. “Just remember, don’t play with Wedge.”

“Why not?”

Luke leans closer to whisper with exaggerated gravity, “He’s too good.” A crooked grin lights up his whole face.

 

* * *

  

“You can just stay, you know,” Luke says sleepily.

They’re sprawled out in the bunk, lying parallel on top of the covers.

“Mm,” answers Bodhi, equally alert. “Sure I won’t keep you awake?”

Luke snorts softly. “You’ve fallen asleep three times already. I’ll manage.”

It’s probably true. More than once he’s lost the thread of their long, winding conversation. His eyelids are heavy, refusing to obey him. His own bed feels far away, and here is already warm. He smiles, groaning, turns his face against the pillow to block out the harsh lights still on in the room.

“Here,” says Luke, sitting up to reach over Bodhi and pull a cord, sending the room into darkness.

He feels the bunk move as Luke settles his weight back down against the mattress. It isn’t large, but with both of them on their sides, they’re managing to keep a small space clear between them. When he finally fights his eyes open, his pupils slowly adjust to bring the silhouette of Luke’s face into view.

Luke’s eyes flutter open too, looking back across at him from under long lashes. “You good?”

The question feels oddly weighty, and Bodhi’s not sure quite what he’s asking. All the same, he tells him, “Yeah, I’m good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Little More Time" by Ciaran Lavery


End file.
